Chapter Nine: Trapped

"Wait," said Harry, confused. "I can explain. I'm Neville's contact. From Britain."

The guards relaxed slightly but didn't lower their wands. One of them, a tall dark-haired woman stepped forward. "My name is Marcia, I'm the commander of the guard here. I will need you to declare yourself," she tossed him an eye dropper full of clear liquid. "That's Veritaserum, three drops. I need you to tell me who you were travelling with."

Harry shook his head. "I can't take it. I'm Harry Potter and I have too many secrets." He looked to Hermione who seemed unfazed by everything that had just happened. She snatched the eyedropper ungraciously from his hands and squeezed the Veritaserum onto her tongue. Marcia turned her sharp eyes towards Hermione.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm here against my will. This is Harry Potter, the giantest arsehole in the universe, who is keeping me captive. Until recently, we were travelling with Kingsley Shacklebolt, former Britain Minister of Magic, who refused to free me," Hermione spoke for the first time in days, her voice deadpan and clipped.

Harry glowered at her. It stung to hear what she really thought of him after all of the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get her here safely.

"Now Hermione," chided the smiling woman behind the desk. She nodded to the guards, who lowered their wands and retreated to the back of the room. "Harry has gone through a lot of effort to get you here safely."

"I don't care," shrilled Hermione. "I want to go back and fix this! I love Ron and I don't care what you say, I can fix-I can f-…" Hermione looked horrified as the truth came spilling out of her mouth, still under the effects of Veritaserum. "I can't fix this."

She started crying again. Harry stared at the woman behind the desk helplessly. "Can you fix her?" he spoke exasperatedly as Hermione bawled onto the desk.

"Harry," the sterling haired woman spoke sternly with a small frown. "Neville told me she has been through a lot. Healing the mind takes time and energy, even with magic. You will need to be more patient."

She walked around the desk and shook Harry's hand, much to his reluctance. "We should introduce ourselves. Dr. Elizabeth Starker. This poor girl is Hermione Granger. And you are the one and only Harry Potter. Even here you are famous."

"No need for introductions there, as usual," Harry mumbled and looked down.

A line creased in the doctor's face at Harry's statement. She surveyed both of them over large square glasses for a few moments.

"We will admit both of you indefinitely," she decided primly. "You will need to hand over your wands."

"I can't do that," Harry said, irritated at the way they were being treated. "We came here for help, not to be accosted and have our wands confiscated."

The doctor peered up at him. "We are helping you, Harry Potter," With a quiet mutter and a wave of her hand, an ornate mural on the wall behind her rolled up to reveal a safe. Dr. Starker continued as she twiddled the dials and tapped it with her wand. "Your wands will be placed in this magical safe. A drop of your blood on each compartment and no one can open it but you."

Harry quickly reached down to draw his wand but his arms were slammed behind his back and he was buffered into the wall.

A huge male guard held his arms and another patted him down and removed all of the wands and his money.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione screamed. Even through his fear, Harry felt hope rise in him as he realized she had tried to fight back as well. Maybe there was a spark of who she had been left somewhere deep inside of her. He turned his head to see her pinned against the wall next to him. Marcia grabbed all of their belongings and placed them into the compartments. He breathed heavily, still unable to move beneath a guard nearly as tall, and certainly wider than Hagrid. Something sharp stabbed into his hand. He heard Hermione whimper a few moments later and he looked over to see a sharp pin pressed into her thumb.

The guards clapped handcuffs onto them and spun them around. Dr. Starker was placing the blood soaked pins into the compartments containing their belongings. She locked the safe and turned back towards them, her face calm and serene.

"I thought you might respond that way," said the doctor, a hint of regret in her voice. "You have not had anyone to trust for a long time. It is unfortunate you could not trust me. In time, I hope we may rectify this."

Harry and Hermione regarded her haughtily. She smiled gently. "You will be shown to your rooms. They are locked during the night but you will have full access to the activity rooms during the day. Don't be surprised by the array of both potions and pills that you will be taking throughout your time here for the first while. We will slowly wean you off when you are ready. I am surprised at your lack of previous medical treatment. One would think we would treat talented war heroes with more respect."

Harry and Hermione still did not speak. They had both been through too much to be mollified by a few compliments. The doctor sighed. "Well, we have lots of time. You will have a private session with me each day and we can address any concerns at that time. I've left a Dreamless Sleep in your room for each of you, but after tonight there will be no more of that. It isn't healthy to keep on dreaming and self-medicating but forget to be present in life. And on that note, we will see you tomorrow."

Harry looked up at her last words. They reminded him of a long-bearded man with half-moon glasses that had said something similar at a time that seemed like millennia ago: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

He stared back at her stiffly as they were hauled away. How could she know that? Was this more of Dumbledore's doing? Could they not escape his plan for them and his persuasion, even in his death? How could he leave them, like sitting ducks, yet again?